According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, joy is defined by such words as bliss, great pleasure, happiness, or delight. Without a doubt, joy can contain elements of these emotions because we have experienced them in certain situations in varying degrees. None of these words are contrary to how the Bible would define joy; however, this seems too simplistic and temporary compared to the biblical view of joy.
I married a man who tells time the way a compass points north. He knows exactly where he needs to be and when he needs to be there. I unfortunately don’t have the same innate sense of urgency.
As we consider the current context of ministry in Canada, there are many reasons to be encouraged. Openness to the gospel itself is higher than ever, and willingness to accept an invitation to church is way up.
The slower pace of summer can feel ordinary, even obvious. But perhaps it is also an invitation.
SBC’s Leadership Conference topic this year was The Transformative Presence of Jesus in Baptism and Communion. Patrick Franklin, associate professor of theology at Tyndale University, was the main speaker for this weekend. He assumed the task of walking through perspectives on baptism and communion not familiar in our churches.
Dennis Rader said, “I was a good man, who just did bad things.” Who is Dennis Rader? True crime fans will recognize his name, because Dennis Rader is a serial killer better known as BTK—an acronym for his modus operandi. He bound, tortured and killed his ten victims.
For the past few years, I have asked what it means to be the Evangelical Mennonite Conference. What are the elements that make us who we are? What combination of flavours gives us a distinct style and approach to ministry that identifies us as being EMC? What values do we commonly hold that shape our ministry mindset? Because they exist.
I was first introduced to the sonnets of John Milton in college. One in particular, no. 19, “On His Blindness,” has stuck with me. In it, Milton reflects on the question of his value to God as a writer now that he is going blind. He ends by observing that a king with thousands of servants rushing about doing his bidding is equally served by others who stand by, waiting.
When historians tell of our ancestors’ arrival from Russia, they also never fail to mention two other creatures: ravenous crop-destroying grasshoppers, and hordes of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. These insects added insult to injury during years of drought, poor crops, and other struggles. It seems that life for our newly-Canadian forebears could be a hungry, itchy one. Being a people of the land was not always an easy task.
It was probably the most pickles I had seen in my life. Whole dishes, in fact, were dedicated to containing vast quantities of the canned cucumbers. This was one of my first experiences with an Anabaptist congregation outside of the Sunday morning service: a funeral for a beloved member of the church.
I don’t have a smartphone. Never have. My lack of smartphone does not make me better than others. I know full-throttle phone addicts who are more present, patient and prayerful than me. Pope Francis apparently had 50 million Twitter followers. But, while my status does not confer moral superiority, it does give me a rare viewpoint.
I never wanted to be an Anabaptist. Growing up in Winnipeg, I grew up a Baptist pastor’s kid who went to seminary and became a Baptist pastor. I never experienced a crisis of faith, probably because my parents were excellent role models. Their integrity convinced me that what I was being raised to learn was right, and I have retained much of what they taught me.